Recklessly
by Clichesbullet
Summary: There's a difference between being brave and being simply reckless. As Chris Rodriguez stands by the bonfire that first night after he got cured, he wonders if he'll ever be able to be more than just the second. It's time for him to take action.


**Recklessly **

**A/N: **_I'm glad to say my other story, Calamity Clarisse, was voted "Most Humorous" on the "Veritas Awards" and, for that, I should thank all of you –my amazing readers, so: thank you so much. _

_This story has no relation with CC at all, is just a different take at Clarisse and Chris with a lot more fluff (to an extent that it makes me feel kinda awful about writing it, lol) but I hope you like these versions of characters you've all grown used to seeing me writing in a different way. _

_I hope the fans of shameless romance enjoy this one - though I haven't slept in over 24hrs and I'm not really sure of what exactly I wrote down here. Please, leave a review. _

**Once again, be warned:** _This is seriously weird. xD_

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I think most people can't tell the difference between being brave and being reckless. I don't blame them, of course; most of the time, it really is very hard to tell.

I, for instance, am a great example of what reckless looks like. I never calculate my words before I let them out, I never bother about the consequences of my actions and, because of that – and only because of that – you might find me (more often than anyone would think healthy) involved in potentially dangerous situations and seemly absolutely ok about it all.

That is what we call reckless.

Clarisse, on the other hand, she's a classical example of bravery.

You'll often find her involved in all sorts of dangerous situations and –I can assure you that – not only will she seem to be at ease with them, as she might quite possibly be looking as if she's having the time of her life (which she probably _will_ be).

What makes Clarisse brave instead of just stupid is the simple act of pondering: she calculates all the odds before making any moves.

I take action because I don't care about what happens next.

Clarisse takes action _even though_ she knows exactly what _could_ happen next.

I know for a fact that the girl standing just two feet away from me, right on the other side of the bonfire, has a terrifying total of twenty seven scars spread all over her bodies. That's only two scars short than my own total: and I'm two years older and way too many times more reckless.

I also happen to know at least one of those scars was acquired while trying to save me: the one located right under chin, around 1.27 inches long and in the shape of a new moon.

Knowing all these things, however, wasn't exactly helping me feel really brave at that moment; so I breathed in and out and I whispered to myself:

"Don't calculate the odds, Chris: just be reckless. Don't calculate the odds."

Maybe, I considered this as some people around me took nervous glances in my direction, I should have just kept my mouth shut because, truth be told, nobody wants to see a recently made sane guy talking to himself. If anything, it's not exactly reassuring.

The bonfire shone bright and I silently hated it for doing so, I hid in the shadows being more of a coward than I had ever been. There was a time –seemly ages ago –when I could simply walk straight up to a girl and speak my mind to them: people used to like that about me, the way I could persuade anyone into liking me. Nowadays, I didn't feel like that was even possible.

So as Apollo finally moved his stupid car away and the moon appeared, covering camp with a comforting dark, I found myself a spot away from the lights and the other campers and decided to give my lungs a chance for oxygen.

What was wrong with me after all? I mean, I knew exactly what was wrong, I just couldn't understand how it had got me there. Had I always been this much of a coward and didn't know because I was jumping into the first opportunity for danger, or was I actually a brave person facing something so scary things were harder than usual?

Flashbacks danced in my head as I tried to sort things out and I couldn't help but to wonder if I wasn't actually reliving everything there was to relive before my inescapable death. I leaned heavily against a tall column, hoping for the shadows to cover me as I tried to ignore the bile making circles in my stomach.

Was I really such a sissy?

No, no –it couldn't be: I mean, I had taken a stand –even if it was the _wrong_ stand –I had joined the Titan's army and I was willing to take part in a war. As a matter of fact, despite of me changing sides, I was still part of something big. Big and dangerous; and I wasn't backing out from that for nothing.

I had fought monsters before: big, man eating monsters: monsters with a hundred eyes, monster with poisonous tongues, monsters eighteen times my size. I had faced them with _and without _an armor and I had won.

I had also applied – willingly – to search the labyrinth all by myself, knowing all along of how many people had gone missing in that same process. No, I was pretty sure I wasn't_ just_ reckless: I had had my bravery moments too. I had been a hero.

So why was it that I felt so weird right now?

All I had to do was stand up, walk up to her and say "Hey, how you doing?", that was way easier than killing monsters or trying to go against the gods' wishes, so why was I currently hidden under a five feet tall shadow trying to avoid a girl who had done nothing but be nice to me the last thirteen to sixteen months?

"I thought I might find you here." A scornful voice came from a spot right behind me, from somewhere on the darkness. My heart skipped a beat: I knew that voice.

Clarisse was brave; of course she'd come find me. She wasn't like me.

"You ok?" Her voice now showed genuine concern. "You look a little green." Considering the bonfire flames were shinning bright red only a few feet away from us, for her to notice I was green might have meant I wasn't exactly looking good.

"I'm fine." I managed with a shrug. "Just trying to get…" I was still considering what to say next when I finished the first sentence. My brain was working way too slowly for someone with ADHD. "…used to things."

"Getting used to what?" She asked taking a sit right next to me as if that didn't even bother her at all. She didn't even have to think, she wasn't even slightly nervous. She was so relaxed, it was almost aggressive. "Being back to camp, you mean?"

"Uh…" I could only see the half of her that was illuminated by the flames, all the rest of her remained a mystery. "I guess so."

"Hm." She replied halfheartedly.

We were quiet after that, analyzing the campers that made conversations with each other, nobody even caring to look in our direction which surprised me deeply since, usually, this type of gossip –not that I know what exactly I meant by "gossip" – was their favorite thing to feast on during bonfires. Maybe it was the battle that had taken the moods down, maybe people just really couldn't care less that I had been a traitor and was now back at camp.

Or maybe, I thought later, they are just all really_, really _afraid of Clarisse and what she might do to them if she overhears anything.

"Thank you."

"What?" I could be wrong but I could swear I saw her jump a little on her seat, as if my words had just gone through her like a jolt of electricity.

"I said thank you." I repeated, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. "I realized I never got to thank you."

She bobbed her head to the side a little and for a second the lights gave me a glimpse of the scar on her chin.

"For saving me." I said. "I never got to thank you for saving my life. I owe you one."

Clarisse sighed impatiently, as if she wasn't happy with the turn the conversation was taking.

"You don't owe me anything." She took a bite from something: I believe it was a marshmallow. "All I did was finding you." She was quiet for a second. "Actually, not even that: you were the one who found me."

I smirked, incredulous:

"I'm pretty sure you saved me, Clarisse." I told her. Fake modesty wasn't usually Clarisse's cup of tea. The girl I knew would be nothing but gloating about how much I owed her for saving my ass. "It's ok: you can brag, you know?"

"Why should I brag?" She said seriously. "I didn't do anything. I kept you in my place for a while then we brought you here and waited for Mr. D." She took another bite from her marshmallow before saying with her mouth full: "He's the one you should be thanking."

We were quiet for even longer this time. So maybe this was the reason I was nervous in the first place: Clarisse didn't care. She had saved me because she was some sort of super hero; it had nothing personal about it – I wasn't her Lois Lane, I was a cat trapped in a tree. I was an default good deed she did because it was "the right thing to do".

Why did that thought hurt so bad?

As we stood in silence, watching the flames burning from not so far away, I browsed through my memory and tried remembering the Clarisse from before. For some reason, my memories of her and the girl sitting right next to me didn't quite fit.

I remembered playing tag, I remembered getting beat up, having me head shoved in toilets and having belching contests - but all of that was with a girl centuries younger than the one I was talking to.

"You've changed." I blurted out without thinking. A reckless attitude by a reckless guy. She glared at me without a word for what seemed like a whole minute:

"You think so?" she said finally with a small chuckle that looked suspiciously like a sneer.

I then remembered that younger, less mature Clarisse had always been courageous, honest, blunt and upfront so, maybe, this new, older and quiet version of Clarisse had kept some of these qualities and I felt like I owed her some sincerity of my own.

I owed her some bravery.

"You know, Mr. D never erased my memories." I wasn't being reckless at that moment in particular, I knew exactly what my next words could get me into.

"What do you mean?" This time I was sure: my words had pierced her just like a jolt of electricity. She seemed downright trapped.

Could she possibly be scared?

"I mean that I know." I sighed heavily and taking my time. Bravery was hardly as easy as recklessness. I swallowed my own saliva and scratched the back of my head before moving on. "I know you stood by me."

Clarisse crossed both her arms and legs and, in an act never before witnessed by me, took her bandana off her hair to spin it between her fingers nervously.

"So what?" She said with a scowl directed towards the bonfire and not at my face at all. "I felt responsible."

"I know you did." I sighed, feeling frustrated and, I guess, a bit disappointed. "I'm just pointing it out that…"

"Look, Chris, can I say something?" It was my turn to get nervous over other people's words. "I mean, just to get it out of the way?"

She was facing me again, that not made me feel comfortable.

"Sure." I coughed out the words. "Just…go ahead." I mentally flinched, waiting for what was about to come.

"You don't owe me anything."

"Huh?"

"Look, so Mr. D cured you and I kept you safe for a while... It's still _your_ life." She spoke matter-of-factly. "You should be allowed to choose which side to fight for, you know? You wanna be with the Titans, you want to fight for them, to defend your own theories…You should be allowed to do so."

This coming from the girl who hours earlier had slapped me senseless for joining the "dark side" while yelling she'd give me a taste of what would a world ruled by titans feel like.

"Weren't you the one who just…?"

"I know what I did." She raised a hand to shut me up. "You deserved that much. I'm not saying I won't kick your ass if you decide to join the titans again, I'm just saying you can do whatever you choose to." She made a pause. "Just be warned that, if you choose the enemy, I won't have mercy."

I couldn't help but to chuckle. She looked so offended –and, well, pretty much pissed off –that I gave up before getting punched in the face. The memories of the beat up right after I had woken up were still pretty vivid for me to be so willing to take that sort of pain again.

"So basically what you're saying is that I'm free to join the titans again…" I said with a smirk. "but, if I do decide so, you're pretty much going to kill me on the spot. Is that so?"

She shrugged and said with a honest to gods straight face:

"Pretty much that, yeah."

"How nice of you to let me know." I added sarcastically. "I think I'll pass though."

"I can give you a few minutes of advantage for you to run, if that's what you want." She proposed and I laughed.

"I'm not interested in joining the titans again, Clarisse."

Her next words were whispered on a tone I had never heard she using before; she sounded more than just questioning –I could hear hope in her questions:

"For real?"

It was my turn to look her in the eyes.

This time, as I stared at the new Clarisse, my memories of her were of a twelve year old punching a dummy with frustration.

"Have you ever faced a real monster, Chris?" The Clarisse in my flashback had asked.

"A bunch." The younger version of me had replied. "A big city like mine is filled with them, I lost count of how many."

"Lucky you." Twelve year old Clarisse had said. "I'm tired of all this training. I can't stand camp anymore, I don't even remember the last time I fought something for real." She let out a deep sigh. "It sucks that I don't get to maim things. If I don't put myself out there, if I'm not in the battlefield…" Younger Clarisse stopped talking to literally kick the dummy's head out of its body. A really dangerous twelve year old if you ask me. "How will I ever prove myself worthy of anything?"

"I always thought…" My present time self now spoke to present time Clarisse. "that Luke was my only friend; that he understood me because his father was never around and because he knew how it felt to be neglected." I could feel something shaping up inside me, a feeling I didn't quite understand but that made me say things.

"I think now – better late than never, I suppose – I can finally understand that it wasn't like that at all. That Luke couldn't understand how it felt to be like me because he never had to prove himself worthy. If anything, Luke always thought he was worthy and wasn't getting what he deserved, I was seeing everything by a wrong perspective."

One look to Clarisse's expression and I could tell she wasn't understanding a word I was saying. Poor girl had never been really good with dialogues but I could tell she was making an effort. I felt kinda especial.

"I sided with those I thought understood me, Clarisse; with the ones I thought deserved my fidelity the most. I fought for the people I cared about. I'm not like you, I don't fight for causes; I fight for people."

I think the Clarisse I had once known wouldn't understand what I meant about fighting for people instead of fighting for causes. As a daughter of the god of war, she fought because that was what her guts told her to do, it was her primary instinct. She'd pick whatever side she thought to be right and she'd fight for it even if that meant killing everyone she loved.

This, of course, considering Clarisse was ever capable of loving.

"I think I get it." The new Clarisse answered me, causing me to raise an eyebrow.

"Do you?" She looked offended for a second then her expression became one I knew well.

She was pondering.

It only lasted five seconds or less, she stared at me without blinking and took a deep breath. She was going to say something she knew could bring serious consequences and she'd do it even though she didn't feel like it.

For some reason, that was the moment my bile decided to dance in my stomach again and I felt like running away.

I didn't though: I wasn't that person anymore.

"I hate you." She said at last. "I don't hate you the same way I always said I did though."

I had no idea what she meant so I just remained in silence, looking lost.

"I always said I hated you: I always chased you around and made your life miserable."

"I think it was a two way street…" I said apologetically, feeling uncomfortable to be having that conversation even though I had no idea what she meant. "I mean, I was always pulling pranks on you, hiding your stuff, making fun of you…"

She ignored me and went on:

"The way I used to hate you, it was hate with respect. The way you'd hate anyone you knew deep down could defeat you sooner or later; I hated you but we were equals."

"And we are not equals anymore?"

"No." She took a deep breath. "The guy I respected and took as my equal would never consider fighting for the titans."

"Oh." I could feel my legs basically yelling for me to run from that place. I was hating every second of it.

"But then…" Clarisse's voice went down a notch, as if she had just turned down a radio so that nobody else but us could hear it. "then it occurred to me that I couldn't control whatever stupid opinions you might or might not have."

"Thanks." That, by the way, was sarcasm.

"You are not getting what I'm saying." She pointed out matter-of-factly. "I'm saying that I don't agree with you."

"I think you made that pretty much clear by now, Clarisse."

"But that I'm still taking your side."

What did she just say?

"I know some people will give you a hard time." She twisted the bandana around her knuckles and pressed her fingers together 'till they turned red. She wasn't just nervous, she was _terrified_. "If you had chosen the titan's side again, I'd let you go, I wouldn't fight."

I was speechless as she stared down at her own hands.

"I'd never join you or your ideas but I'd never fight you, Rodriguez." Her badana was completely wrinkled by now. "'Cause, in the end, I still do respect you as an equal."

She took a deep breath as if she was professing her hardest words ever:

"And as a friend."

She stopped talking. I could tell she wanted to say more, she just wasn't _capable_ of.

"You like me." I didn't mean to sound as triumphant as I did but, at that point, I had no control over it anymore. "You actually like me."

She scowled at her knees this time and I smirked smugly.

"I remember everything, you know, there was no point trying to act as if you didn't care." I said happily. "I know you never left my side."

Her chin went up at once and she actually looked me in the eye when she said:

"Are you trying to get beaten up? Honestly, what's with all the gloating?"

Oops.

"I'm sorry." I said with a smile. "I didn't mean to gloat at all." Maybe only a little. "I'm just…"

"What?" She asked with a frown, looking threateningly at me.

"I'm just happy."

I might as well had just slapped her across the face because she stared me as if I had gone crazy again:

"I'd take your side too, Clarisse." I told her even though I felt my lungs about to explode and as if something was alive and tap dancing inside my throat. "I'd take your side any time."

"I don't need you taking my side on anything." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms again.

"I know you'll never say thanks to that or anything even remotely similar so, for now," I said as I snatched the bandana from her and pulled one of her hands with all the courage I could gather. "For now, I'll just take this whole conversation as "don't you ever dare to betray me again, you idiot." And "how dare you ever walk away from me when you know I have always loved you?"."

Clarisse stared at me with a look of pure contempt:

"Did Mr. D drug you or something, Rodriguez?"

I laughed:

"Thanks, Clarisse, I like you too." She'd never admit it, but I could tell she blushed. Or maybe she was just really pissed.

"You're so stupid." She rolled her eyes and muttered. "As if I'd ever _like you_ or anything like that."

She never moved her hand away from mine though so, as we stood there in silence –hand in hand –for over ten minutes, I finally managed some more elaborated words:

"I'm sorry." I think she wasn't expecting that because she turned her head from the bonfire to hear me. "I'm not saying I'm sorry I joined the other army this time, I'm saying I'm sorry that I took my time understanding things."

"You're _are _going mental again, aren't you?"

"Just listen, will you, you stubborn prick?" I said, rolling my own eyes this time. "What I'm saying is that, you've managed to mature and grow up and become this amazing person and all I did in the same meantime was…well, screw up."

Clarisse smiled at me:

"Well, you're right about that much at least." I was going to have to get used to ruined moments.

"Whatever." I said. "I'm sorry, I really am. I've never managed to be actually worthy of anything, I was never brave like you. I just did things without ever worrying about the others. I'm going to be more like you from now on." I gave that line a second thought. "But with less anger management problems, of course."

She used her free hand to punch me in the arm – it hurt like hell but she was laughing and so was I.

"I'll try my best to be less reckless and more, you know, courageous and stuff."

She analyzed me for a second or two.

"That's great." She said after a while, a smirk playing on the corner of her mouth, making my stomach do a funny flip and sending me a weird chill through the spine as I thought that she probably wouldn't smile like that to anyone else in camp. "'Cause you'll probably need some of that courage for when Ares finds out you're trying to lure his daughter into the traps of Aphrodite."

Oh Gods.

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" I sighed, resigned.

Clarisse stood up and stretched:

"Listen! They are singing bonfire songs, don't you _love_ bonfire songs?" We both hated bonfire music.

"You know, a little reassurance would be nice right now." She gave me an ear to ear smirk and offered me a hand:

"I'm sure it will be quick and painless, Chris." I took her helping hand and once we were both standing side by side, I said:

"You know what? I don't even care – I'll be fearless _and_ reckless; that way I won't have to care about your father killing me at all."

"Really? 'Cause he has like this big collection of medieval torture instruments he saves for especial occasions…"

"You're being mean and for that I'll now force you to sing-a-long with the rest of the campers _and_ we are sitting with the Apollo cabin." I pulled her as she struggled to get away, professing all sorts of swearwords.

And it wasn't until I had gotten her by the wrist and forced her to say the stupid song's lyrics word by word while all the time glaring murderously at me that I understood: I had been sane for less than twenty four hours and, despite all my promises of trying to be more mature and responsible, I had already put myself into another risky mess.

I had become Clarisse La Rue's boyfriend.

Funnily enough, as the Apollo cabin shot us weird glances because of our out of tune singing, all I could think about was why had I even felt so nervous in the first place.

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**A/N: **_Oh Romance, how weird it feels to write you – oh why must you feel so wrong? And, oh Clarisse, why is it that by making you only punch one person in this story feels so out of character? xD Please, leave a review and set me free of this agony! xD_


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